


Chat Support

by Merfilly



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, Chatting & Messaging, M/M, Mutual Pining, Power Imbalance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-03-21 01:16:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13730034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: Obi-Wan realizes he is in love. Now he needs help to cope with it.





	Chat Support

**Author's Note:**

  * For [serenityabrin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenityabrin/gifts).



Obi-Wan Kenobi was eighteen years old the moment he realized he had, somehow, come to value his master's life and happiness more than his own. He didn't know if this was what love was, but he thought it might be. He didn't even know who to try to talk this out with; Luminara was far more rigid in how she handled being a Jedi, and Quinlan was… Quinlan.

If they hadn't had that long mission, if he hadn't been so worried over his master, even as his master was turning a blind eye to whatever Obi-Wan and the heiress they were protecting had been up to — no, he had to quit thinking like that. He just had to find a way to come to terms with the fact that he was tangled up in knots over wanting more than just being Qui-Gon's apprentice.

* * *

Despite every best intention, Quinlan ferreted out the secret. He really needed to remember that Quinlan Vos was both charming and dangerous to all of Obi-Wan's inhibitions.

Quinlan just dumped a torn piece of flimsi off on his tray in the commissary. "Use it. You'll get what you need."

Later, in his room, he found the directions for a chat program that would keep him completely anonymous and an address for a support group.

"Quin, I know you're not crushing on Master Tholme, so why even do you have this?" he wondered very softly, grateful that his master was off with his friends, having been bullied out of the room by none other than Mace Windu himself.

* * *

**Unwanted One has entered the room**

**Stubborn Bantha has entered the room**

Obi-Wan looked at that user name that had come in right after he set up his session and had to chuckle. That phrase… he was pretty sure he'd heard it applied to his master once or twice. He looked at the conversations going on, trying not to intrude, trying to get the idea of how this all worked.

Then a user named 'Dainty Death' flat out asked both of the newcomers why they were there.

{I have to learn how to hide my feelings for someone}, Obi-Wan typed in, his face flushing crimson even as he admitted.

{Same} popped up beside Stubborn Bantha's name.

{You came to the right place then} was Dainty Death's reply to them both. {Too old, too young, related, or in a position of authority?}

{A bit of a couple of those}, Stubborn Bantha replied before Obi-Wan could finish face-palming that he was really doing this.

{Buckle up, noobs, and watch how we work it.}

* * *

The chat room, when Obi-Wan could get there, was less advice on how to hide things, he discovered, and more a mutual support group of venting and pining over the forbidden objects of their desires. In some ways, it helped a lot. He knew he wasn't the only one who had been in this position.

In others, it just made him wish that Feelings and Communication weren't absolutely the worst things to exist in the universe. One for being there, and the other for not being there, he thought whimsically as he signed off.

Of all the people in the room, he seemed to have the most in common with Stubborn Bantha. Maybe it was because they were both new, or because they were dealing with apparent power imbalances, but Obi-Wan felt connected to the other user.

Maybe he'd use the private message function later, and see if he and Stubborn Bantha could talk a little more openly about the problems. It might help Obi-Wan even more than just sighing over impossibilities.

* * *

{I hope you don't think I am too forward, but we seem to have a lot in common.}

Obi-Wan blinked as he read the message. He'd just signed in and was going to message Stubborn Bantha, only to find one waiting for him. He checked and saw Stubborn Bantha was currently online.

{Not forward. I'd been thinking to message you.}

There was a long pause, long enough for Obi-Wan to think the message had been sent in error before a reply came.

{How are you handling being in love with someone untouchable? I find it harder every day to not tell the one I care for.} Stubborn Bantha's question slammed into Obi-Wan's need to actually work through this and he answered swiftly.

{So do I. But, I manage. Because if I told him, it would cause so much grief for him. His position would be in jeopardy, and he would take the blame for my idiocy.}

{Ahh. I see. Whereas if I were to be forward, it might very well scare mine and undo years worth of building trust. And see him removed from my care.}

Obi-Wan considered that, then shook his head. {You're a teacher or a guardian to your loved one?}

{Yes.}

{It's a messy place to be, from either side.} That should be enough to confirm they really were on opposite sides of this credit coin.

There was no answer, as Stubborn Bantha signed off. A few minutes later, Obi-Wan's comm was alerting him to come to the Council room for an assignment.

* * *

Obi-Wan hissed as the blaster bolt tore through his tunics, grazing his shoulder badly. He saw as Qui-Gon moved from defense to full aggression, and admired, for the millionth time, how the elder man flowed into his style.

"Obi-Wan?"

"Fine, Master. Just a singe." He made an athletic leap over one opponent and brought his lightsaber down on the blaster that had caught him. "It will be — "

He didn't get any further as the blaster, made so poorly as to have no power dispersal loop, exploded, sending him and their assailants sprawling, with new pain flaring in Obi-Wan's legs as he caught some of the shrapnel.

If he had thought his master was power made human before, what followed was nothing short of a myth given form, as Qui-Gon dealt with those outside the blast radius in only a few short moves, before he was at Obi-Wan's side, scooping him up carefully to get to help.

At least he had the solid comfort of that strong chest and powerful arms to comfort against the pain of his injuries.

* * *

Obi-Wan woke to the quiet comfort of a ship in hyperspace, a nice thick blanket keeping the chill off of him… and then his awareness caught up to him. That wasn't a blanket. It was a Jedi robe, one that held the most comforting scent in the galaxy. And its owner was sitting beside the berth, leaned forward with his elbows on the edge, face in his hands.

"Master?"

Qui-Gon lifted his head and gave a very soft smile at him. "The medical tech thought it best to put you under while he treated your injuries. I chose to let you fully sleep it off," he said warmly, looking faintly relieved.

"I almost remember that conversation," Obi-Wan admitted as the brain fog lifted. "I… think I might have been a little delirious."

"Blood loss does that, my padawan," Qui-Gon said. "It was a slow bleed, but heavy nonetheless." He then reached out, catching the padawan braid and tweaking it ever so slightly. "Pay attention to how handmade the weapons are next time, Obi-Wan. I don't think my poor heart can take the shock of seeing you injured like that again."

Obi-Wan felt his own heart thump solidly in his chest, and a knot formed in his throat. "Master, I never, ever want to cause you grief or worry you or be a problem!" he said quickly.

"I know, my padawan. Just as I never would wish to see anything happen to you because of my own actions." Qui-Gon let the braid go, sitting back, though his eyes tracked when Obi-Wan leaned in that direction, chasing after the contact. Obi-Wan met that gaze, thinking to apologize for being ridiculous, and his throat went dry.

There was something in the eyes, something in how intently Qui-Gon watched him that he knew. It was the same way he watched his master when the man wasn't looking his way.

"You, my padawan, have never been unwanted," Qui-Gon said, a low sound that stroked over every nerve in Obi-Wan's body and soul. "It is you, is it not?"

"If I call you a bantha to your face, how much trouble will I be in, master?" Obi-Wan asked, finding his wits finally, as the mutual knowing exploded on his senses.

"Let's not think of trouble, Obi-Wan, now that truth is between us." Qui-Gon leaned forward, claiming a kiss that was gentle, yet possessively promising more. When Obi-Wan chased after his lips, Qui-Gon settled the matter by joining him on the berth, knowing they were solidly in accord over their feelings.

Obi-Wan hoped the trip back to Coruscant took a long while.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Live Support](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14234673) by [Charity_Angel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charity_Angel/pseuds/Charity_Angel)




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